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The Sun and the Inferno: Part I
Gwyn did not believe his intuition would fail him. No, as he tumbled through the sand, the taste of liquid iron clinging to his tongue, he was still in disbelief. Of course, his intuition had caught up too late - that hadn't happened before. Ever. As Astrum pulled that last arrow back, the one that streaked with far more gold than the others, the one that shone like a star and blinded all the senses present in Gwyn's body, Gwyn found his actual eyes reacted faster than his eye of the mind - which was impossible. Literally. As Gwyn stood, he felt the entirety of his body scream out in resignation. It burned like hell, and even though he couldn't see, he knew that his flesh was seared. His nerves still danced, slapping him for continuing to move despite their predicament. But it was okay, in a few seconds it would heal, and they would stop their plea. The Sun Child stood himself, bow nestled against his shoulder. He brimmed with arrogance, a blinding aura of gold as his lips curled with smug superiority. The thunder above had ceased if only for a moment, yet the clouds still rolled, heavy as if they were simply waiting for the right moment to strike. The golden hues of the Sun's Champion flashed with excitement and slight appraisal as the harrowed Red Heir stood, the brisk weight of sand trailing off of his crimson jacket. Gwyn's own gaze considered his opponent. Such an arrogant man, the sheer act of standing upon higher elevation making it clear how his adversary saw their respective statuses. Gwyn's tongue glazed over his swollen lip, taking up the last bit of blood before warmth tucked the wound away, removing the singe of pain on his face that had become more irritating than debilitating. Gwyn inquired to himself as he healed, taking in the smooth grip of his sword. He flexed his fingers, drumming them against the hilt. Surely, the golden saint must've done something to tamper with his eye of the mind. It had never failed him in all of his years of fighting, and he definitely wasn't losing touch. No, the man standing before him surely knew such a technique. He was great hero, a Champion without equal. Gwyn knew well that this adversary was as powerful as the Angels of old, so of course, he'd have such an ugly ability up his sleeve. This man, the Sun Child, must've possessed a skill that allowed him to cloud the intuition of others. A form of mental interference. "Oh? Judging by your face, you seem to have a hunch about what just happened." The sun's chosen chimed, clucking his tongue slightly as his arm flexed, digits tightening around his bow. Damn, and he could read people well, too. "Quite so. Knowing you, it isn't hard to deduce you would've come across such a technique." The red knight planted his hand on his hip, staring up at his opponent. His amber hues scanned for any weakness he could find - but there were none. The golden prince was far too firm for such. "You say that as though it is an unsightly ability. It was never developed, 'least not for that purpose. Just comes in handy when I am forced to deal with ones such as you." The baritone vocals smoothed out, deep and self-assured. "Ones such as yourself?" The quip came quickly. Gwyn would not allow the man before him to act coy, for he possessed an instinct perhaps even greater than the red knight's own. Astrum's golden hues narrowed in recognition of the nigh-instantaneous response. "You know me?" "Of course." Gwyn moved his dry tongue. Here, in this barren desert, confronted by one of the most fabled men to ever leave the valley, he didn't feel alive. At all. "You've been hunting me for months- and, not to mention, who hasn't heard of the oh-so-famous 'Bull of Heaven'?" The alias rolled off his tongue in audible disgust, earning a brief chuckle from the namesake paladin. "Your attempts to goad me are noted. Fret not, demon spawn..." Astrum's eyes flashed gold like the sun, yet his aura by contrast exuded a chill as cold as the desert sands under the blushing, tender moonlight. "...I will be killing you either way." The threat definitely held some weight, as Gwyn gave an audible 'tch' before brandishing his blade. The elegant longsword of red and silver ignited with crimson flame in response, acknowledging his opponent as the platinum as engulfed in an inferno befitting hell itself. No more words needed to be spoken, Gwyn understood as the next instant he batted away an arrow that would've splattered his head into nothing but membrane as red as his alias. The resumation of the battle was confirmed by the lunge of which Gwyn closed in on his adversary with. Arrows, each as magnificent as the sun, streaked down in a torrent of power - determined to annihilate the red paladin. Each streaked with golden flame, and crucial aim was unnecessary - these arrows, granted by his Mutation which in of itself was a gift from the Sun God, would track whatever target Astrum had laid his sights upon. Each was capable of obliterating a two-story building, further forgoing the need for... Gwyn batted away another - the impact was enough to shake his body like a tambourine, every bone within him rattling from the force of the arrow. As another dozen approached, Gwyn's amber hues closed. He breathed in the surrounding area, absorbed every bit of serene night that he could, before the show began. Moving like a red bullet, Gwyn twirled and knocked each arrow away. His body twisted and spun, blade of flame streaking throughout the night sky much alike bloody traces of death - fighting against the eternal slumber that awaited him. "Impressive." Astrum muttered, loading against the golden bowstring once more. Runic symbols, enrichened tattoos of gold that seared against his body when he poured ki throughout them, lit up as he loaded another unit. Gwyn's eyes opened, a brief millisecond after the barrage. He assumed that the next volley would come in a similar timeframe. 40 meters between them. Such a distance would only take two bounds, so why... The red knight's amber hues observed the sun's chosen as a nearly imperceivable curl overcame his lips whilst he loaded the arrow, and the quick sprint Gwyn prepared turned into a desperate backstep. Astrum fired the arrow, after which it multiplied into a torrent of golden bullets cutting clean through the crisp air of the night. Gwyn struck his blade into the ground, intuition warning that he wouldn't have been able to keep up with such an assault. His now free right hand nestled against the crook of his left elbow, eyes shutting before reopening with newfound life. Indeed, life spread throughout the crimson runes engraved into his left arm, bursting forward in three circular 'plates' of energy. Each was engraved with divine symbols, hieroglyphs from the true age of the Gods, before the Cataclysm. From his outstretched hand, they absorbed the dozens of arrows that came down like the rain, each bursting with golden flame destructive enough to bury a city block. The first layer shattered completely whilst the second maintained form barely, cracked under unforgiving pressure. Every impact left his arm progressively more numb, and Gwyn found himself steadily pumping more ki throughout his runes. Gwyn let out a sigh as the volley halted - he wouldn't survive another. Yet, his intuition warned him of something greater, but just like before - it was too late. A platinum blade, shining with vibrant gold, struck into the 'shield' that the red knight projected. And it broke. Then came another blade, shot like an arrow. His body moved for him despite the series of cracks now present in the bones of his left arm, nerves screaming for him to stop, blood now trickling down his right cheek as the weapon traced his otherwise flawless skin. Gwyn reached for his blade - damn, too far! Rolling to his knees before hurriedly standing, his eyes quickly analyzed as the next 'arrow', identical to the last two, shot in a line that would assuredly strike his heart. Perhaps in a moment of panic, or maybe out of sheer luck, the red knight snatched the sword of gold mid-air. "Inferno: Claim!" His bass screamed out, causing the ground to tremble with fear as crimson markings, not unlike the engravings on his body, spread throughout the weapon. Then, with a new sword in hand, the Red Heir twisted his body - facing the next blade. He slammed his stolen equipment into it's sister, arm numbing as the impact destroyed both. Then, Gwyn dashed forward. Outstretching his palm as he ran, he waited for his own blade to fly into his palm, narrowly ducking and twirling his body to avoid the onslaught of projected swords, shot as simple arrows. Soon, his request was met - the familiar crimson hilt locking into his digits as Gwyn leaped. High above, his figure rose into the luminosity of the moon, blade raised. Astrum, disgruntled that the man had even dared use one of his own blades within his own grubby little palm, raised his bow to fire another volley through the red-dyed tunic of the crimson knight, which would soon be dyed an even deeper scarlet. Yet, as the man above came crashing down, and Astrum's blade fired into the heavens, the golden hues of the sun-kissed saint widened in disbelief, witnessing the red snake above cleave through his 'arrow'. The ground split as Gwyn came down upon the Sun Child, bodies colliding in a burst of climactic energy. Category:LX Tomes Category:Pages added by Obito 7900 Category:Stories